


in the shadows

by liionne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1940s, 1950s, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-World War II, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's in Chicago. He wasn't stupid enough to go back to New York, and Peggy said she wanted a fresh start anyway. He had hoped that getting away from their home would mean getting away from Steve, but apparently, he was wrong. He stares at him, and Steve stares back, and his face blanches. Bucky can imagine why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, here's that Halloween AU thing I was talking about. I know exactly where it's going, but I don't know how many chapters it'll take me to do it. I'm aiming to get the last chapter up on Halloween, so stay tuned till then! I hope it's alright, apologies for any mistakes. if you spot any feel free to let me know!

Bucky stands at the edge of the club with a cigarette caught between two fingers, smoke curling upward in tendrils before being caught by the air and carried away. Every so often he takes another drag, smoke filling his lungs before being pushed back out into cool night air. Peggy told him that smoking's bad for you, but what does it matter anyways? He's _dead_. He's not going to get much worse. Everything he does now, he does out of habit. Breathing, sleeping, eating regular food. He does it because it's plugged into him, and because he knows no other way of life. He's learning, but-

He sees a potential victim walking towards the alley across the street, and just his luck, the guys turn into it. He's a total beefcake, but Bucky's got superhuman strength now. Has _had_ superhuman strength since Steve rescued him from that HYDRA base.

But it doesn't matter about all that. Bucky _hates_ thinking about all that, because that leads him to think about Steve. Steve, who when he was little, Bucky used to pin up against the wall and kiss until he giggled and squirmed and batted him, and who, when he was big, Bucky used to curl up against and go to sleep, happy in the knowledge that he was safe. So many times he wanted to tell Steve what he was after he found him, so many times he wanted to turn him, to have him with him forever. But he hadn't done any of those things, and now it's 1948 and they're all moving on, all of their team. Surprisingly, the only Commando to give his life in battle was Bucky, but then that's not strictly true, is it? He fell from the ice, put his arm back into place, and walked back to America. Yeah. He walked. He took a boat, too, he's not freaking Jesus, but he walked the majority of the way there. French girls really do taste just as pretty as they look.

He snaps out of all that. Now's not the time to reminisce. He follows stealthily into the alley, and uses his most favourite line: "Gimme your wallet." Pretending to be a mugger is the only kind of sick, twisted fun he gets out of all this. They think he's pinning them against the wall to get their wallet, but then they see him lunge for his neck and it's nice knowing that at least for a little while, they're confused rather than scared. For a little while.

The guy stops dead, just as Bucky had expected, but when he turns- well, that's totally _not_ what Bucky expected.

"Stevie?"

Bucky's in Chicago. He wasn't stupid enough to go back to New York, and Peggy said she wanted a fresh start anyway. He had hoped that getting away from their home would mean getting away from Steve, but apparently, he was wrong. He stares at him, and Steve stares back, and his face blanches. Bucky can imagine why.

"You died."

"Now's not that time to talk about that, Stevie," Bucky murmurs, shooting a glance over his shoulder. He needs to make sure no one's coming, because if anyone overhears them now, they're both in trouble. "You should come with me."

"You died." Steve reiterates. Bucky sighs. Obviously, they _are_ going to have this talk now. Steve always was stubborn.

"No." Bucky says, head shaking. "I fell, there's a difference."

"Well I thought you were dead." Steve states, shoulders shrugging despite the fact that he's anything but nonchalant.

Bucky nods, eyes falling to the floor. He can't really argue about that, but he can't really come out an explain either. He's about to ask Steve to come back home with him when he hears Steve laugh. It's just a single laugh, abrupt, like he could't hold it in. Bucky looks at him confused, and Steve scrubs his eyes with his hands.

"Please don't say you're going mad on me, punk." Bucky says, somewhat cautious.

Steve arches his eyebrows. "I think it's a bit late for that, don't you? Seeing my dead best friend. I'm already mad." He pauses, and then adds, "Jerk." Just for good measure.

"You're not. You're not mad." Bucky reaches out and takes his hand, and Steve inhales sharply. Honestly, Bucky's probably not doing a lot to help his case. His skin is freezing to the touch, and he has no heartbeat. He's not making a very good case for still being alive. "Come home with me, Stevie. You'll see. It's okay, you'll see."

Steve seems unconvinced, but he nods. Bucky exhales softly, glad that he's agreeing. He leads him home, and he prays to god Peggy'll be out and stay out all evening.

~*~

She isn't out.

"I swear to God, James Barnes, if I find blood stains on the bathroom floor one more time-"

She's pretty much dropped them in it before she's even out of the bathroom door. But then she clocks Steve, and her eyes widen.

Things are just going from bad to worse.

" _Peggy_?"

"Hello Steve."

Steve sits down slowly on the sofa, and after a moment, Bucky follows. He refuses to let go of Steve's hand. It's warm in his, solid, broad. He doesn't want to let go for a second.

"One of you needs to tell me what's going on," Steve says after a moment. "You need to- you need to tell me why you're here. How you're here. What- What you're even _doing_ together, and why the hell there's a _body_ in the bath tub."

That gets both of them to freeze. Steve has better eyesight than either of them remember. Peggy steps slowly away from the bathroom door, and closes it quietly behind her.

Bucky's about to make up some dumb excuse, when Peggy begins speaking. "Have you ever heard of vampires, Steve?"

Bucky balks. He stares with wide blue eyes at Peggy, but she looks steadily at Steve, eyebrows arched.

"Don't make a fool out of me, Peg." Steve murmurs. He takes his hand from Bucky's to clasp in his lap, and Bucky feels personally wounded. He swallows around a lump forming in his throat, though he knows that's probably just habit. The Commandos knew about them, but Peggy never did. No one else did. That secret'll die with all of the Commandos, and Steve's so used to moving away from Bucky, pulling back when someone else enters the room. Bucky shouldn't take it personally.

He does.

"I'm just asking a question." Peggy says.

Steve glares, breathing out in a huff through his nose. Bucky knows he doesn't like being made fun of, not after years of being little, being small and frail, and he must think Peggy's making fun of him now. "Of course I know." He answers.

"You're a smart man, Steve." She says. She's being so cryptic, but they have to be. If they came out and told him the full story, he'd never believe them.

Steve turns to look at Bucky, and he looks desperate. Eyes flick over him, and Bucky sighs softly. "Tell me what's going on, Buck." He murmurs, and Bucky could cry. Y'know. If he _could_ cry.

Bucky does the only thing he can think of. He tugs down his shirt collar to reveal the two perfect circles stamped on his neck, and Steve stares.

"They weren't testing on me." Bucky says softly. "They were turning me. Zola- well, he wasn't exactly human."

Steve blinks furiously, but he doesn't move. Peggy has moved silently over to them, sitting herself down on the coffee table, and she does the same. She pulls the collar of he dress away with a single finger to reveal the same marks, almost identical, but made by a totally different person almost two hundred years before.

"So you're both vampires." Steve murmurs.

Bucky nods. He's surprised at how well Steve's taking this, to be honest. He hasn't freaked out yet, he hasn't laughed them off, and he hasn't jumped out the window. All in all, it's a win for Bucky.

"Proper vampires." Steve murmurs again. Bucky nods, and Steve takes a deep breath. "And you're- together?"

Bucky is the first to quash _that_. "No. Not at all. Not-" He looks at Peggy, and shakes his head. "She's just looking after me. She 200 years old, I'm only 6. I'm just a baby. Need someone to show me the ropes."

The weirdest thing is, that seems to be what was bothering Steve the most. He doesn't tell Steve about the casual sex, but then neither does Peggy, so he figures he's okay to leave that out all together. Six years is a long time to go without any, and Bucky doesn't yet trust himself to get _that_ close to a person he's not planning on eating. Steve takes a moment to let all of that sink in, his eyes on the floor, both Bucky and Peggy looking at him. He chews his lower lip, and then he looks up, first at Bucky, then at Peggy, and then back again.

"Change me." He says.

Bucky just about loses his shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries not to think about him, but it's hard. He usually spends every day thinking about Steve Rogers anyway, but now that he's seen him, felt his hands in his again, he can't get him out of his head.

"No!"

He's on his feet before he can even register the move, inhuman speed propelling him upwards, and he sees Steve flinch with just how fast it was. He stays still after that, but he does wave his hands around an awful lot.

"We're _not_ changing him. You. We're not."

Peggy looks between the two of them; Steve's watching Bucky, but the vampire catches just how her gaze lingers on Steve. She's actually _considering_ it.

"Don't you dare." Bucky points a finger at her, and by the way she sets her jaw, he knows he's in trouble. But that's the thing; whereas before, because she's his elder, he'd have took a step back and taken the rebuke that came with it, but because this is Steve they're talking about, _Steve_ , who Bucky still sees as 90 pounds and frail and asthmatic, he doesn't care. He'd give his life to save Steve. Has done so before. He's not about to stop now.

When he looks back, Steve is on his feet.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Why not?" Bucky repeats, incredulous and angry all at the same time. "Why _not_? Because I don't want you to be a monster, Steve! You don't _know_. You're good. You're _too_ good and I'm not having you-"

"Bucky."

Peggy has seemingly retreated to watch them both from a distance, or maybe to _not_ watch them. She'll hear every word they're saying, due to inhuman senses, but he appreciates the space. She stands back at the bathroom door, hand over her stomach as she looks at the floor.

Steve has taken a step forward, and caught Bucky's hands as he gesticulates. Steve's touch grounds him almost immediately. He's breathing hard, panting, despite the fact that he has no need for breath. It's habit. It's habit to breath, to sleep, to eat, to drink. It's habit to stick his neck out to save Steve Roger's own, to pull him out of harms way, and he wants to. He wants to keep him safe, and he doesn't think sinking his teeth into him is going to do that. If anything, he feels it's only going to make matters work.

"Bucky," Steve says again, his voice soft. He fucking knows how to get past Bucky; Bucky feels himself melt. "Bucky, we said a lot of stuff during the war. Remember?" His voice is a low whisper, drawing Bucky in. "You could have two heads, and be missing your limbs, and you wouldn't be a monster to me. I would still want you. Alright?"

"That's not what this is about." Bucky murmurs, his stomach slowly sinking as he looks at Steve. He's never been able to deny Steve Rogers anything, not when he was little, not when he was big, and not now. It could take a day, or a week, or a month, but he gets he what he wants because Bucky's soft when it comes to Steve. There are some thing he's dead set again, of course, but-

"I won't, Steve." He mutters, shakes his head. "Not- not now. Alright? I won't. Get Peggy to do it."

"I'm not touching him, James." She says, voice soft in volume but firm in tone. She looks at both of them before her gaze settles on Bucky. Their hands are still joined, and they're too close. Instinct and muscle memory tell Bucky to step back, but he doesn't. He doesn't move, and neither does Steve. What's the point? Peggy already knows, and if they were to be together, they wouldn't stop around her. "It's not my place. He's yours."

Steve looks at her, then at the floor,like he's processing that, and then at Bucky.

"And you won't do it?"

With great difficulty, Bucky shakes his head.

Steve drops his hands, but it looks like it hurts him. He turns away. "I should probably go then." He says. "An eternity without me, better start getting used to it. God knows I'm still getting used to life without _you._ "

And then, just like that, he's gone. It's the easiest Bucky's even seen Steve give up a fight. But maybe all that fighting during the war has just made him tired, now. He doesn't hold himself like he used to, he doesn't stand so straight and tall anymore. Bucky wonders if it has anything to do with him, with his fall. Peggy won't tell him what Steve was like after, and maybe that's a good thing, because if it led to him being like this, Bucky doesn't want to know. He watches Steve's retreating figure, and feels something cold coil in his gut. When he turns around, Peggy is gone, and Bucky heads for his room. Whether he has to sleep or not, he's going to. He's not staying here, not with the look Steve gave him before he went still lingering in the forefront of his mind.

~*~

Bucky tries not to think about him, but it's hard. He usually spends every day thinking about Steve Rogers anyway, but now that he's seen him, felt his hands in his again, he can't get him out of his head.

It's funny. Every time Bucky passes another human being, he takes in their smell. Every person has a different smell, a smell of their very own, just like everyone has a taste of their own. Bucky doesn't know why that is, and neither does Peggy, so it's just one of those things that he had to get used to. But he can hear it, he can actually _see_ it, the thudding of their blood in their veins, sweet air rolling off their necks and their hands every time they move. It took him a whole year not to jump on the first human being who so much as blinked in his presence. He notices their scent, he notices the thudding of their pulse, and if he's feeling self-indulgent he might just think about how they may taste on his tongue.

But not Steve. Admittedly, he had only been around Steve for about fifteen minutes, but that's still time for someone with inhuman speed to pick out the blood rushing in someone else's veins.

He lies on his bed, and stares at the cracks in the ceiling. Chicago's a big city. Maybe Steve'll go back to New York, to Brooklyn. Maybe he'll decide he can't stand to be in the city knowing that Bucky has turned down an eternity with him. It's not that. It's nothing like that. It's that for two years, Bucky tried to control the urge to kill anyone and everyone he came into contact with. He only lasted so long on the walk back from that HYDRA camp because he was exhausted, and terrified; he chalked the burning in his throat down to starvation. But then he'd met Peggy, and yeah, well, you get the idea. But he spent two years just trying to get himself under control, and he's spent the next four years trying to get his self _loathing_ under control. He doesn't want to inflict that on Steve. His entire life, up until 1945, was to keep Steve Rogers safe.

And as Bucky turns to lie on his side, he hopes to god that by essentially cutting Steve out of his life, letting him grow old and wither and die like the rest of them, he's doing the right thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's just shrugged out of her coat and slipped off her heals when he says, "So- you and Steve, huh?"
> 
> Damn.
> 
> He wasn't even going to bring it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally neglected this fic, but I have got the rest of the chapters written, so I'll be doing a chapter dump - happy halloween!

Bucky and Peggy don't talk about it. It's almost as if it never happened. She takes one look at his face, which is far more ashen and sunken then usual, and purses his lips. They say nothing more about it for a good two weeks, almost three.

Peggy seems to go out dancing an awful lot. Before she would only go out dancing when she needed to eat; she would go and do the grocery shopping, she'd go and do the odd jobs, she'd go out and do whatever it she had to do, but she never went out dancing unless she was thirsty. And yet- well, it's odd. Every night she goes out in a new frock with her hair done, her make up on, and Bucky- he just doesn't know what to make of it all. Maybe she's just doing it as a hobby; she'd been complaining of boredom not too long ago.

But then Bucky finds out what's going on.

He's not snooping, not at all. He just gets bored one night. It's not late, and Peggy's only been gone about half an hour, and Bucky thinks, fuck it. He's bored, the dance hall's open, and he's good at self control now. Not as good as Peggy, but good enough to be able to go out into society without an elder holding his hand- or his leash. Whichevers comes first. But really, he'll be fine, so he dresses up nice, does his hair, and heads out.

The dance hall there is fairly new, built just before the war, and it's nice inside. Not like his usual haunt in Brooklyn, but change is good. Usually, anyway. So he hops up the steps and heads inside, and tries to settle into the skin of the man he used to be.

He can't see Peggy inside, but that doesn't matter. He's not here for Peggy. There are people up and dancing already, despite how young the night is, and many are sat around having a drink. Bucky goes to get himself one; pointless, sure, but it's nice all the same. And it certainly does help him to blend in.

He scans the club for someone he might like to dance with. Before the war he went for anyone whom he could hold an intelligent conversation with, but he did notice a running pattern in petite, blonde haired, blue eyed girls. He tried to get himself the hell out of that hole, because it could only lead to trouble, and he resolves to do the very same tonight.

And he finds a fair few, too. One is a girl with hair so dark it looks absolutely jet black, like the soot that used to cling to his skin or the coals they used to shovel into the fire, and her eyes are something like a cat's, big and green and bright. She's pretty. Ridiculously so. But then over her shoulder-

Over her shoulder.

Steve and Peggy.

They're leaned in together; not dancing, but sharing a table, leaned in and whispering to each other. He says something and she laughs, holding her hand to her face to make it seem more ladylike, and he smiles back - Bucky pretends he doesn't notice how it doesn't reach his eyes. He watches the two of them for an hour, but they don't get up to dance. It seems they just like watching; or maybe Steve's still as awful a dancer as he used to be.

They leave, her hand on his arm, and Bucky feels his stomach flip flop.

He tries not to be petty about it. They're friends, and they're allowed to be friends, but they were always something more than that, and that's where Bucky falls short. Bucky knows fine well how confused Steve was for a good long while, because he loved Bucky for sure, he said, but there was something there with Peggy too. He concluded, sometime during the summer of '44 (if Bucky recalls correctly, and he _does_ ), that if a guy could swing one way there was no reason why he couldn't swing the other too, and that was that. And Bucky knows how Peggy felt; she's talked about it before. Talking about Steve was a sure fire way to calm Bucky down, in the weeks after his fall, when he wasn't so exhausted and the frenzy could take hold, and somehow it just... came up. So yeah, he knows. He just wonders if that's what they're doing now. If they're... giving it a shot.

Bucky really does try not to be petty about it, though. Honestly, he does.

He's just not very good at it.

~*~

He's reading his book, his brand new copy of Animal Farm, when Peggy comes in. Now it really _is_ late, the early hours of the morning, but it's not unusual for him to be up. Vampires don't need sleep. And Bucky has a lot of nightmares, so he often stays awake in an attempt to keep them at bay.

She's just shrugged out of her coat and slipped off her heals when he says, "So- you and Steve, huh?"

Damn.

He wasn't even going to bring it up.

She doesn't sigh like he would expect her to. Or rather, how he would expect any other dame to. Rather, she lets her arms fall to her sides, and raises her eyebrows. It's not quite defiance, because he answers to her, not the other way around, but... it's something like that.

"Did you follow me?"

Bucky's eyes narrow, and he sets his book down on his chest, leaving the page open. "I'm not pathetic, Peg. Of course I didn't follow you. I wanted to go dancing."

"I didn't see you there." She says. She doesn't question his story, so he knows she believes it.

"I didn't do any dancing." He replies. "And you seemed pretty wrapped up in-"

"James." She says. "Before you start being petty, I want to tell you that what Steve and I have is strictly platonic. I told you never to get entangled with mortals, and I wouldn't disobey my own rule." She raises her eyebrows, and then crosses her arms to set her hands in front of her. "Steve needs a friend, and I missed him, so we've been going out. That's all."

"He's still human." Bucky concludes. He could see it, could see the flush to his cheeks and the light in his eyes. He could hear him, the thuddingof his heart beat, and he could smell him above all the perform, the drink, and all the other smells in the room.

Peggy nods. "I told you I wouldn't change him. It's not my place."

Bucky looks at the ceiling for a second. He feels like a bit of an ass now.

"Thank you." He says eventually.

She nods, a small smile tugging at full, painted lips. "You're welcome." She heads to her bedroom, but Bucky doesn't pick up his book. No, he's thinking now. "And James?" She says, stood in the doorway. When he looks up, she finishes, "He misses you."

And then she goes, and Bucky feels even more shit than he did before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Steve, I'm serious. I- There's so much blood." Bucky murmurs, eys flicking over Steve's body once more.
> 
> Steve, the bastard, is still smiling. "So that's why you're here."

He considers going to see Steve, he really does. He doesn't know where he lives, but Peggy does. She was at his house that night, he could just ask. But he doesn't ask. He keeps meaning to, it's on the tip of his tongue whenever he sees her, but he- he doesn't. Because he's not ready to turn Steve, and that means he's not ready to see him yet.

He goes about his life like nothing is wrong, as Peggy continues to go about her business too. She goes out and does what she has to during the day, and on a night, she goes out with Steve. Bucky doesn't go out again. He stays home. It's probably better that way anyway. And at least, Bucky thinks, he has a friend.

He's on the last page of Animal Farm when he hears Peggy's footsteps on the stairs. Honestly, he should've gotten through it faster for someone who doesn't necessarily have to sleep, or work, but he's been learing to play piano, and he's getting pretty good at it, and he's earning new languages, too. Whilst he learned French and German during the war, he's now practically fluent in the two, and he's learning Spanish. It's nice to be doing something productive with his time.

But he stops reading when he hears her footsteps outside, because they're not as they normally are. He can usually hear the clip clop of her heals down the hall, a steady beat of one two, one two, tip tap, tip tap. But today they're more frantic, fast as she heads towards the apartment. Not running, but almost. He's already up on his feet and opening the door when she approaches.

Her coat is unbuttoned and open, and her dress, which is a lovely white and yellow floral affair, one of Bucky's favourites, is covered in blood. Soaked, from her chest to her lap, just above her knees, and Bucky stares in horror.

He knows it's nothing she personally has done. She's been a vampire for near 200 years, her kills are clean, and anyway- it's only 6pm. They don't hunt until midnight, or later. It's nothing she's done.

"It's Steve." She says, like she's just read his mind. "You have to help me."

It's dark, with it being November, as they rush outside. Bucky's speed is bordering on inhuman, and Peggy has to keep pushing him back, slowing him down, as they enter an unfamiliar alley.

Bucky's super-human senses do the work for him. He can smell the blood, sweet and rich but tangy, hanging in the air. He can see the outline of a man propped up against the wall, head dipped, hand to his stomach. And he can hear the thudding of a pulse which is growing shallower by the second.

Bucky rushes his to kneel in front of him, and assess the damage, as Peggy watches the entrance to the alleyway.

His face is bruised and swollen, his lip cut open, his nose bust, blood dripping into his eye from a cut across his forehead. His chest is torn open, pretty much. The thrumming of his heart feels far too loud, not as muffled as usual, and Bucky wants to vomit there and then. His right arm seems limp, and he doesn't even want to know _why_ , and then there's his stomach; Bucky counts the bullet wounds, all four of them. There's something sticking out of his thigh, and he doesn't have to look to closely to see that it's a knifehandle.

Bucky feels anger rise in his throat, tastes acid at the back of his mouth, but then he sees Steve's lips twitch and he murmurs, "Hey, Buck."

Bucky just about falls over. Trust Steve to still be lucid after being attacked the way he has been.

"Steve? Oh god, Stevie-"

"I'm fine." Steve mutters, using his good hand, the hand pressed to his stomach, to bat Bucky away. He manages to reach his stomach, and Bucky looks down to find his shirt smeared with blood. "I'll heal. Just gimme a few hours. Maybe a day."

"I don't-" He swallows around a lump in his throat. "Stevie, I don't think there's any coming back from this. I don't- I don't think a few hours is gonna do it."

"Oh really?" Steve croaks, and Bucky fights back tears. "When'd you get your MD, Barnes?"

Bucky gives something of a laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. Steve had said that to him once, when they were just young, starting out on their own. Steve had gotten into another fight and Bucky had looked at his knuckles with a frown. He's said they were broken, and Steve had rolled his eyes and asked when he'd gotten his MD. Bucky had proceeded to kiss those knuckles, and then his face, and then- well, other parts of him.

Now, though, it's not very funny.

"Steve, I'm serious. I- There's so much blood." Bucky murmurs, eyes flicking over Steve's body once more.

Steve, the bastard, is still smiling. "So _that's_ why you're here."

"Punk." Bucky murmurs, his voice breaking.

"Jerk." Steve replies automatically, smile falling away from his face. His eyes are closing, and Bucky panics.

"Don't you fall asleep, Steve." he says, reachingout and taking a gentle hold of his face. "Don't you go. Don't leave me."

Steve huffs. "I just need a nap, Buck. Help me... heal faster..."

"No, Steve," Bucky says, head shaking. His eyes are itching, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. "No, no, c'mon-"

He doesn't know what to do. Steve is dying right in front of him, his pulse weakning and falling away by the second, and he must be in so much pain. He must be in unbearable pain.

"Tell me you want to stay," Bucky murmurs, manhandling Steve's face to look at him. "Tell me, Stevie. C'mon."

"'Course I wanna-" Steve huffs, tries to run his tongue over his lips but doesn't quite manage. "'Course I wanna stay. Wanna stay with you."

And that's all Bucky needs to hear; he finds the pulse in Steve's neck, and then he bites.

He just hopes there's enough left of him to survive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wastes no time in going round to the other side of the bed and clambering onto it, pressing himself against Steve's side. He rests his head against Steve's chest, and listens to the thudding of his pulse as it begins to die away to nothing. His cheek feels wet where it meets the skin, but he doesn't dwell on it.

Peggy helps him carry Steve back to the apartment, because even with super-human strength, he's heavy. And they have to be so, so careful with him. Nothing can go wrong now.

The plan is as follows: Steve's heart will, hopefully, continue to beat for a while longer. And once the poison has been pumped round the entirety of his body, and to his heart, his brain, and his lungs, the most importat parts, it'll filter into every cell, and effectively crystalise everything inside of them. Bucky doesn't know how it works, he just likes to think that's how it's happening. As a scientifically minded man, that's the closest explanation he can find, and it's just a hunch. But it'll turn him, and it'll make Steve into a vampire, which was something Bucky was dead set against, but apparently something which was inevitable. He wasn't going to let Steve die. No. Not when his entire life had been dedicated to keeping him safe, not when Steve was one of the driving forces that kept his world turning. How could he?

He sets Steve down in his bed, and Peggy hovers by his side. "Do you want me to stay?" She asks.

Bucky bites his lip. "You have any experience of this?"

She shakes her head. "None."

"Then you- you can go. I don't mind. I'll yell for you, if it seems bad." Bucky gives her a small smile. Technically, he's giving her the option to stay. But it's there in his tone, and the way he's standing by Steve's side, that he wants to be alone with him.

So she nods, and gives a small, sad smile of her own as she leaves.

Bucky wastes no time in going round to the other side of the bed and clambering onto it, pressing himself against Steve's side. He rests his head against Steve's chest, and listens to the thudding of his pulse as it begins to die away to nothing. His cheek feels wet where it meets the skin, but he doesn't dwell on it.

"You can't leave me, Steve." He murmurs. "You can't go. I told you, I'll go wherever you go, I'll follow you wherever. I'm not going to live in a world without you in it, y'here me? So don't you dare go anywhere."

Of course, there is no response. Steve is silent. Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath.

"I love you, y'know. I do. I love you." He presses a kiss to Steve's lips; they're cold beneath his own. "Don't leave. I love you."

And then Steve's heart stops beating.

~*~

He doesn't wake right away. It's not like that.

It's when his heart stops beating that Bucky considers leaving, because it's just too tense for him. Peggy is reading one of the books her creator gave her, flicking through the pages swiftly.

"A week is the longest it should take for someone in his codition; three days is the minimum." She says, looking up at Bucky. "If he doesn't wake up after a week..."

Bucky hangs his head. He knows what that means.

He doesn't play piano in that time, because he doesn't want the miss the sound of Steve waking up. He goes ad checks on him evry hour or so, but there's never any change. Steve lies there, still, looking like he's simply sleeping. Bucky _knows_ he's not sleeping. He can remember is own changing pretty damn well, the fire that spread through every part of him once it had taken hold, from the outside in, starting at his fingertips and his toes, the top of his head. It moved in, slowly, creeping towards him, razing everytihng in its path until it found his heart, and that was when Steve found him, just as he was waking up, mumbling words he'd been repeating for days.

He hates himself a little for doing this to Steve, but better this than death.

Everytime Bucky checks on him, his wounds have healed just a little bit more, until, five days later, he goes in and they'reg one. But Steve's still covered in blood, and Bucky doesn't want him trying to eat himself when he wakes up. So he has Peggy run back to his apartement and get his things, because he'll have to stay with them anyway, at least for a year or so. His clothes are moved into Bucky's room, and the rest of his things can be moved later, if he needs it.

Bucky cleans him up, washes his hair, his skin. H changes him when Bucky brings his clothes over, and then he gives a soft sigh. It almost looks like nothing at all happened.

On the sixth day, Bucky creeps in, and sleeps by his side. He's been sleeping on the couch, because it's just easier that way, makes his chest hurt less, but he can't help himself. He curls up beside him, and rests his head on his newly cleaned chest.

And then Steve takes a breath.

It's his first breath, a deep inhale, a wheeze and a gasp all at the same time as he throws himself forward. He sounds pained, breathing ragged, like Bucky's been holding him underwater for a long time.

"Peggy!" Bucky yells, but she's already heard; she's in the doorway and kneeling by the side of the bed with a hand on Steve's back, and Bucky kneels by his side, face close to Steve's.

"Stevie?" He murmurs. He knows he doesn't have to be loud. "Steve, Steve, just breathe- just breathe-"

Steve nods, hands fisted in the bed sheets as he pants, his head dipped forward and bangs falling into his eyes. When he's caught his breath, he looks up at Bucky. His irises are tiny, the ring of blue nearly invisble around large black pupils, and he blinks a few times, setting himself right, as he looks at Bucky.

"Hey, Bucky," He murmurs. His voice is just like it usually is, strong and deep and thick like honey, like absolutely nothing is wrong.

And that's when Bucky kisses him, because he just can't help himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it's not as messy as Bucky's expecting, and not as slow either. It's over in a minute, and then all they have to do is button Steve's coat up, and he's good again. There's a flush on his cheeks when he pulls away and Bucky knows that's a good sign; he runs his thumb over Steve's cheekbones, and grins.

Steve leans into it, gasps alittle gainst Bucky's lips. Everything will feel new to him now, senses heightened; he'll be able to smell Bucky better, he'll be able to taste him more strongly as he kisses him, and he'll be able to feel every individual hair against his skin. He pulls away panting softly; Bucky's not an idiot. He knows there's something more insistant than their reunion: the burning in Steve's throat, that'll only be quenched with one thing.

He looks over Steve's shoulder at Peggy, who's watching the two of them with caution. "What should I do?" He asks.

Steve looks over in her direction too, and smiles, "Hey, Peggy."

Peggy directs a small smile his way before she looks at Bucky, and shrugs her shoulders. "You're his creator," She says. "It's up to you."

"You mean you're not going to help me?" He asks.

She shakes her head. "I don't know what to do anyhow."

Bucky huffs a sigh. So no one in the room has any clue what they're doing.

"Bucky," Steve says. He reaches out, grabs his hand, and Bucky'slips twitch. "Bucky, my throat-"

"Yeah, babe." Bucky murmurs. "I know."

He presses a kiss to Steve's temple; Peggy leaves, and Bucky hears her bedroom door close. Maybe she's right. They need to figure this out on their own. So Bucky shuffles them until he can stand, his hand still in Steve's. It's an odd thing; he feels different. He's always wanted to do what's best by Steve, always wanted to care for him, to look out for him, but now it feels like a /need. Like he does that, or he dies. He has a feeling it's this whole creator nonsense. He'd wanted to run back to that HYDRA camp not long after he'd left, but the pull to Steve had been stronger. That must be how Steve feels now, too, as he's clutching Bucky's hand and clinging for dear life.

Bucky urges him up, and wordlessly, they leave the apartment. It's the early hours of the morning, verging on twilight, and Bucky knows they're going to have to act fast.

He walks down his usual route, his eyes peeled. "You just got to look for someone on there own," He says, his voice low. He knows Steve will hear. "Someone not paying attention. If he goes down into an alley, that's when you can get him."

Beside him, Steve pulls a face. Their hands are no longer entwined, but they walk close, shoulders brushing. Bucky should have known Steve would hate this; he always did hate killing, no matter how necessary, how much they had to. But he hasn't stopped walking, and he hasn't protested, so Bucky concludes he must be okay with it.

Someone ducks into an alleyway, stumbling a little; obviously spent too long in the bars. He staggers, falls against the wall, and when they get to him, he's passed out.

"An easy one, for your first time," Bucky jokes, but Steve has pursed his lips. Bucky sighs.

"Look," He says. "It's this, or you die, Stevie. You've got not choice. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, he's not going to feel anything."

Steve still looks hesitant, so Bucky reaches out, and gives his hand a squeeze. "C'mon, babe."

Steve sighs, and nods. He knows. He takes a deep breath, and then steps forward.

It's like he doesn't know how to start, but instinct should dictate all that- shouldn't it? After a second, glancing over his shoulder to find that the sun is about to rise, Bucky crouches down by his side, and says, "Here- pull him close, back to chest." Steve does as he says, tugging the dead weight of the man towards him. "Can you see his pulse?" Bucky asks; it's plain as day to him, so it must be to Steve. He nods. "Right. So you're gonna wanna bite that. Bite, and then pull your head to the side, so that you tear it. Got it?"

Steve nods again. Bucky leans back, and leaves him to it.

Honestly, it's not as messy as Bucky's expecting, and not as slow either. It's over in a minute, and then all they have to do is button Steve's coat up, and he's good again. There's a flush on his cheeks when he pulls away and Bucky knows that's a good sign; he runs his thumb over Steve's cheekbones, and grins.

"What- uh-" Steve licks his lips, and hesitates. "What do we do with the body?"

Bucky just smiles. He's not going to subject Steve to that just yet. "Don't you worry about it. I'll tell you sometime later."

Steve nods. He stills seems hesitant, though.

"You go on home," Bucky says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Go on. I'll deal with this."

"But I-" Steve sounds small as he says it, his voice low. "I don't want to leave you."

Bucky nods. He feels the same. He can feel an anchor in his gut, a rope, and the other end is tied to Steve. He doesn't want to go either, doesn't want to leave him, but he has to let Steve get back to the apartment.

"I know." Bucky murmurs. "I know, but go on. You don't want to see this, not tonight."

Steve bites his lip, so Bucky pulls him in, mashing their lips together. He can taste sweetness on Steve's tongue, the coppery tang of blood on his lips. He huffs softly, and then pulls away.

"Now go. Before I get other ideas."

He uses a tone that gives Steve no room to argue, and Steve nods, a lopsided smile curving his lips. He goes, still somewhat hesitant, but certainly going.

Bucky huffs again as he drags the body down to the bottom of the alley; it's not like it's heavy, it's just that he wants to be home. He hangs the guy over his shoulder, and moves quickly through a maze of back streets. Maybe he and Steve'll be alright. Maybe everything'll be fine.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, he can get used to this. They're definitely going to be okay.

Bucky steps into the penthouse suite, or rather, the _communal area_ , of Stark Tower, and grins. Natalia's there, curled up in the arm chair, a beer by her side, which of course he steals a sip of as he goes. Only one thing stealthier than a spy and an assassin: a vampire. Although to be fair, she comes pretty close. She's knitting, her scarf now long enough to wrap about Barton's neck twice, but apparently that's not enough. Barton, the man in question, is watching TV with Banner, and Carol sits between the two of them, on the floor. Steve is reading his book, and old, beaten copy of Animal Farm, ignoring the blare of the TV- Barton doesn't have his hearing aid in again.

"We going out tonight?" Bucky asks, pressing a kiss to Steve's neck, right over the bite mark stamped into his skin.

Everyone knows about them, about what they are. At first, when Captain America was roped in by Nick Fury, people thought it was likea reboot. Someone taking the old uniform and using it again, stealing the name of an old war hero. Few people knew the truth. Bucky isn't part of the team, is hardly superhero material- spy material, sure. SHIELD intel value him as one of their best and brightest. But, he digresses, every one of the Avengers know. Honestly, none of them are too bothered. Having battled aliens in the middle of New York City, they're kind of used to _weird_. And as long as none of them freak out and try to eat another team member, they're all on good terms.

But Bucky has been practising secrecy with this for 70 years, and he can't let it go so easily.

Steve's lips twitch into a small smile, and though he doesn't look up from his book, he says, "If you like."

"I do like." Bucky nods. "I like a lot."

Steve chuckles, then, and puts his book down. "Better get ready then, huh?"

"Of course." Bucky nods. Carol looks up as their voices get louder, hushing them both. "Make yourself look pretty, Rogers."

"I always look pretty," He snarks as he gets into theelevator, but Bucky sees the blush high on his cheeks. He's not as good as this as he assumes he is.

Bucky grins, and settles down. He's all ready to go; now all he needs is Steve.

~*~

They meet Peggy at the club.

According to every known source, she's dead. SHIELD made sure of that for her. She mills around, travels a lot, but she's definitely not dead.

She gives them each a peck on the cheek. She's taken to the modern age pretty god damn well. Her dark hair is now bleached blonde, and cut shorter than usual, just below her chin, though still curly. She still wears dresses, but they're a lot tighter and curvier than they used to be.

They head inside the club, Steve and Bucky's hands entwined. Though the three of them have been visiting these clubs, dance halls and the like, since Steve could stand to be in a crowd without killing someone, that much at least, is new. Their hands, joined together as they head inside, no risk of grief or arrest from anyone in the club. They can dance close together, chest to chest, hips close, and Bucky can kiss him, kiss him like it's going out of style, and he might even get a few wolf whistles for his efforts.

Yeah, he can get used to this. They're definitely going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yeah. Chapter dump over! I hope this is alright; I might revisit it, 'cause I kind of like it.
> 
> Also, I _am_ going to edit the beginning of Be My Little Darling, if anyone's interested, so keep your eyes peeled!


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